


Relearning You

by dovingbird



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: 69ing, Casual Drug Use, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Rubberbang - Freeform, other grumps are mentioned but not featured, road trip au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2882996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since Ross and Danny started dating, and okay, yeah, they're both happy, they're both Grumping and doing their own thing while they're together, all that, but...something's not quite the same. They've lost the spark, they realize. So Ross gets the bright idea to run off on an uncharted two-week-long road trip across California together, hoping that they'll find that spark all over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relearning You

**Author's Note:**

> This was a filled commission that was super fun to write! TW for some casually used gendered slurs.

There's never a distinct moment when Dan realizes they're in a rut, not really. It's more like a Facebook timeline, little snapshots that all come together as a whole.  
  
Ross's birthday, for example, when Ross is in the middle of an animating deadline for Arin and Danny's knee deep in polishing vocals for an album and neither of them realize it's already gone by until a week later. Even then all Ross wants is a celebratory blowjob, and it's over in ten minutes, and they're so exhausted that they're both asleep thirty seconds later.  
  
And then there's the fact that they haven't legitimately gone out to eat together like on a date in maybe four months and neither of them even think about it anymore. Their schedules have been so radically different lately that the extent of their meals together consist of ramen in the break room with the other Grumps or Ross making an impromptu Del Taco run that Danny can barely stomach.  
  
They don't play video games together for fun. They barely exchange anything longer than a pop kiss. And the last time that they held hands while watching a movie or anything? It can't even be dated.  
  
And so one night, after that long, steady stream of moments, Dan decides that maybe things need to change.  
  
It probably has something to do with the fact that Ross is jacking Danny off in bed, yeah, and it feels fucking awesome, sure, but it's so routine and methodical that they both might as well be checking Twitter on their phones too.  
  
“Do you think we're in a rut?” Danny asks between soft breaths.  
  
“Mm?” Ross glances up from the dick in his hand, quirking a brow.  
  
“I dunno. Just thinking.” He licks his lips and rakes his sweaty hair out of his face. “Just wondering if we're in a rut.”  
  
Ross spits into his other palm and switches hands, casually running his tongue over his fingertips to pick up the traces of Danny's precum. “I mean, like, whaddya mean?”  
  
“I mean just – careful...” When Ross's fingers instinctively loosen slightly he relaxes back into the mattress, bites his bottom lip against a gasp for just a moment before going on. “...do you get...bored at all? With what we have?”  
  
There's silence, then the slowing of Ross's pace, back to a thoughtful sort of tease that lets Danny think a little better. “Are you?”  
  
Shit, he hates the sound of Ross's tone, this quiet little murmur in the darkness, and he groans. “No, no, that's not what I meant, I didn't mean I'm bored with you, I just-”  
  
“Dude, calm down,” Ross says with a quiet laugh. “It's okay if you're bored with me.”  
  
“But I'm not!” He shoves Ross's hand away. “Can you just like quit that for a minute? I can't think with your hand on my dick.”  
  
“Sounds like a personal problem.” But he feels Ross sit cross-legged across from him anyway and Danny instinctively mirrors him, the tips of their cold toes and knobby knees touching. “Seriously, Dan, that came out of fucking nowhere. You wanna try running that by me again?”  
  
He can. He really can. But knowing him there'll be at least three feet in his mouth by the end of the first sentence. He dips his head and rubs at the back of his neck, sighing. “It's nothing. I was just talking out my ass.”  
  
Silence. And then Ross flopping over like the absolute child he is, just a lump on the mattress. “Okay, so we're playing this game.”  
  
“What game?” Danny asks. He can't help the jagged edge to his tone, he really can't.  
  
”The game where you're being all pouty and upset and a big baby and wah-wah-wah...”  
  
“Ross.”  
  
“...and you don't talk about it directly because you're kind of thinking I can't take it and that I'm gonna throw a fit...”  
  
“ _Ross._ ”  
  
“...which I actually end up doing anyway, funny enough!”  
  
Dan reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, eyes falling shut as he huffs. “I'm so not in the mood, Ross.”  
  
“Then tells me what's on your mind,” Ross snipes back, “so we can figure it out and get over it!”  
  
Yeah, no, maybe not. Dan gets out of bed in one smooth motion and walks into the living room, lacing his fingers behind his neck, dropping his head in frustration. “I'm not doing this tonight.”  
  
“Dan, c'mon!” Ross calls from the bedroom, and it only takes until Danny flops down on the couch for him to follow, arms crossed over his chest. “Stop being a baby and just talk to me, Jesus Christ!”  
  
“What, so you can just...make fun of it or whatever?” he snaps. “So you can trivialize it like I'm out of bounds for even feeling it?”  
  
“I so don't do that-”  
  
“You do, Ross,” he says firmly, rubbing at his eyes. “You do it all the fucking time, and I just...”  
  
Silence.  
  
The silence stretches on for longer than it should, probably, but eventually the couch cushion sinks in beside him and Ross's fingers trail over his arm and Dan fights not to flinch away, holding onto his anger, clutching it tight to his chest. “If I'm being a prick, just fucking tell me, God.” But Ross's tone is softer this time, at least, and it's grating all the same, but it's grating like sandpaper brushing over his annoyance, working away at it and smoothing it until he's barely got anything to hold onto. “I thought you would've figured that out by now. It's been two years.”  
  
“Has it really?” Danny asks. He's tired, so fucking tired, and he can feel it bleeding into his voice. “Jesus Christ, it feels like it's been three days sometimes.”  
  
“And then like ten fucking years some others?”  
  
He can't help but laugh, still hiding behind his heads. “Hell yeah. You're an exhausting boyfriend, you know that?”  
  
“You too, motherfucker.” It's fond coming off of Ross's voice, and when he leans in to kiss Danny's cheek Dan just smiles, peeks out from behind his fingers.  
  
For a moment they just watch each other in the faint moonlight, and when Dan reaches for Ross's hand they intertwine their fingers, Ross sliding over to rest his head gently on Dan's shoulder. He won't be there for long – he always complains that Dan's made out of nothing but bones – but the thought is nice, and the fact that he's willing to put himself in even a second or two of discomfort just to make Dan feel a little warmer is more amazing than he can put to words.  
  
“So you're thinking I'm bored with you,” Ross says softly, leadingly, and Dan sighs. He's not sure he's ready for it to come up again so fast. “Does this have to do with you freaking out because you're old again and I'm me?”  
  
“No, I just-”  
  
“Because it's only like...what, eight years? Nine? Seven? I can't even keep track, and it's too late for math anyway.”  
  
“No, Ross, will you just listen for three seconds?”  
  
Ross goes quiet, and yeah, maybe there's a little huff, but that's fine, he can deal with that.  
  
“...I just...feel like things have changed a lot over the past few months. Know what I mean? No, apparently not, so like...okay, it's just...” There's no easy way to phrase it, not even for someone with a far more silver tongue than he has, so he lifts Ross's chin gently so he can look him in the eye. “I feel like I've been missing you a lot. Like _we've_ been missing each _other_ a lot. Like we got...comfortable, I guess, and forgot why we decided to give this whole ride a chance in the first place, you know?”  
  
Ross wrinkles his brow, looks like he's fucking twelve years old or something, but he doesn't say anything to interrupt, for once. He's actually listening. Fuck, he loves him for that.  
  
“Remember what it was like when we decided to give it a shot?”  
  
“I'd rather not,” Ross says with a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I was goddamn embarrassingly thirsty.”  
  
“Yeah you were,” Dan replies. He grins, feels his eyes fall almost completely shut from how lazy they're feeling, how fond he is of this son of a bitch. “We bought like a thousand dollars worth of sex toys in the first month just trying to figure everything out-”  
  
“Yeah, that was nice, explaining that to the bank when they called...”  
  
“-and we haven't used them in like...a fucking _year._ ”  
  
Ross blinks a few times before he looks down, staring unseeingly at Dan's bare chest. “For real?”  
  
“Yeah, we just...we got comfortable with each other. And that's fucking awesome, you know, because you're my best friend now and everything, and that's what I've always _wanted_ – to be best friends with whoever I was doing the do with – but...I think...we lost some other shit along the way.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ross says softly. “Yeah, maybe we did.”  
  
Dan reaches to roll a few strands of Ross's silky hair between his fingers with a soft sigh. “I wanna remember...what it was like when I first started thinking about you as something other than the annoying-as-fuck guy I did Steam Train with. What it was like when we just said 'Fuck it, we're doing this,' because there wasn't anything better in the world than that. Nothing more _important._ I just...I don't...”  
  
The movement startles him out of his thoughts, and Ross climbs into his lap as elegantly as he possibly can and loops his arms around Dan's neck. Their lips meet softly – one, two, three pecks – before he rests their foreheads together. “You wanna be like two years ago?”  
  
“I...I don't know if we can, that's the thing.”  
  
Ross's eyes flutter shut and Dan sighs – he always says the wrong thing, _always_ – but then Ross wraps his arms around his shoulders in a tight hug and kisses his jawbone. “I'm tired. We can figure this out later, okay?”  
  
Might as well just stab him in the chest, but... “Yeah. Yeah, I'm tired too.”  
  
They both come to their feet, hands linked between them, and wander to the bedroom. Ross seems to drop off to sleep not even ten seconds after his head hits the pillow, but Dan lays awake for hours staring at the ceiling, studying how the shadows creep along as the cars drive down their street.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Three days later Ross slams a travel mug down in front of Danny while Arin, Suzy, and Barry are out on various errands. “Drink up, bitch.”  
  
He freezes where he was in the middle of typing an email for his recording technician, stares at the mug for a long few seconds. He glances up at Ross, then to the cup, then back. “What is it?”  
  
“Try it and see,” he says with a grin, looking pleased as punch.  
  
The problem is that can mean one of two things, and Danny flips open the cup and stares into the steaming liquid he can barely see through the opening. He remembers everything Brian has ever said about science and chemistry and whatever-the-hell and gently wafts the steam toward his nose.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Trying to figure out if you poisoned it.”  
  
“You're an ass.”  
  
“Not as much as you.” It smells like hazelnut, so that's a good sign. He takes a sip and has to actually take a moment to make a cheerful little “Mmm!” All right, this is awesome. “Dude, Ross, that's super good, what'd you do?”  
  
“Suzy made it!” Of course. “It's some weird coffee thing with like hazelnut and vanilla and I don't even know what else, but she says it's good, and also there's like eighty shots of espresso in it, so drink up, because we're gonna be here like ten hours today.”  
  
He nearly spits the coffee all over the computer screen. “What the hell does that mean?!”  
  
Ross shrugs and hops up to sit on the edge of his desk, swinging his feet, knocking them into Dan's legs every once and a while. “We've got a hell of a lot of videos to make before we go on a roadtrip for two weeks.”  
  
Danny wrinkles his brow, shakes his head a little. “We're not _going_ on a roadtrip, Ross, where the hell did you get that from?”  
  
He smirks at him as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded-up piece of paper – no, wait, there's about twelve of them, he just keeps pulling them out and scattering them on the desk in front of Dan, shit, are they ever gonna end – and Danny probably shouldn't humor him like this, but he opens the first one anyway. It's a black-and-white map with two bright red stars drawn on it with a marker, a long green path connecting the two of them in strange twists and turns. He blinks, then opens the next one, sees the continuation of the map. There's words scribbled in the very top-left corner, he realizes, Day Two and Day Seven respectively. “I've been busy trying to figure things out,” Ross says with a touch of pride in his voice. "I have like thirty copies with a billion different routes. We can do whatever, go wherever. We don't even have to follow any of these."  
  
“Shit, you really have, haven't you?” The full realization hasn't really set in on him yet, but he meets Ross's eyes anyway. “I...I mean, dude, we have like...responsibilities and shit, we can't just-”  
  
“They're covered, okay? Arin and Suzy just started a new series, and Barry and Suzy are both here for Steam Train, and they can have a goddamn Guest Grumps with Dodger or Mark for all I care. Look, all I know is that we're filming like eighty episodes today, and we're packing tonight, and tomorrow we're getting the hell out of dodge, got it?”  
  
It's so much. Fuck, Ross is staring at him with a huge grin and sparkling eyes and is practically bouncing on the edge of his desk and throwing so many things right at his face. And out of all of that information, there's only one thing that Danny has the presence of mind to comment on. “...the hell out of dodge? God, how _old_ are you, Ross, fifty?”  
  
Ross flicks another piece of folded paper right at his forehead, misses terribly, and it clatters somewhere near Suzy's desk. “Says the man I bought Viagra for last Christmas.”  
  
“Hey, I never fucking used that.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” He cocks his head to the side with that crooked smile of his. “So c'mon, old man, whaddya say? Wanna run away for a little while?”  
  
“I-I just...” Danny shakes his head, absently fiddles with a lock of his hair. He exhales sharply, a breathy sort of half-laugh. “I don't get it, Ross, where the hell did this even come from? Why do you wanna do it?”  
  
Ross bites his bottom lip and looks down at the floor. And there's a long moment before he glances back up and meets Danny's eyes with a certain tentativeness. “Remember the first week we decided we were actually an exclusive thing instead of just...two dudes blowing each other when things got a little tense?”  
  
Danny stares at him.  
  
“Remember how you just showed up at my apartment at three in the morning once because you heard there was this wicked cool meteor shower and you just had to share it with me? Or how I would just swing by your place and bring you and Barry food and shit just because I wanted to see your face? Remember how...how _exciting_ everything was?”  
  
He does. Fuck, he does.  
  
“I started thinking about it all the day after we had our fight. Really thinking about what you said. And I just...I dunno, I miss it too, I guess. And maybe...I think a little spontaneity will bring it all back.”  
  
Dan flicks his eyes over Ross's face, studying every little detail of the man he loves, committing it all to memory for the eight thousandth time. And he smiles softly and murmurs “Spontaneity? I didn't even think you knew that word.”  
  
He's so fucking excited he doesn't even flinch when Ross smacks him upside the head.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“...what did you just do?”  
  
“I hit the snooze.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it's four in the morning and-”  
  
“Ross, oh my God, you set the alarm for four so we could get ready to leave.”  
  
“Wha?”  
  
“Remember the super awesome magical road trip that's gonna rebuild our entire relationship that you came up with?”  
  
“...wha?”  
  
“...I can't even believe you.”  
  
“Look, just...just five more minutes...”  
  
“I'm getting some ice and I'm shoving it down your boxers.”  
  
“Oh my God, you're mean, fuck you!”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“Dan, I'm tired.”  
  
“Go to sleep.”  
  
“But your car's noisy...”  
  
“Ross, it's been twenty minutes since we left the apartment, and I swear to God I'm gonna pull over and throw you in a ditch.”  
  
“...can I take my pillow?”  
  
“Holy shit.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“You finally awake?”  
  
“Shut up, I hate you.”  
  
“How much?”  
  
“All of it.”  
  
“Same. Hey, do me a favor, Ross, pull out that map in the glove compartment thing?”  
  
“What, this one?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
“Somewhere on I-5. I was on a back road but it sort of ran out, so...”  
  
“Mile marker...okay, yeah, we're like around here probably, right?”  
  
“God, I hope so. I don't know why I'm letting you look at the map.”  
  
“Because I'm hot.”  
  
“That is...Ross, there's absolutely no relevance when it comes to your hotness and your ability to read maps, I just...look, okay, close your eyes.”  
  
“Only if you do it too.”  
  
“I'm _driving,_ you fuck. Close them!”  
  
“Fine!”  
  
“Now touch somewhere random on the map.”  
  
“...mmkay.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“My eyes are closed, I can't-”  
  
“Oh my God.”  
  
“Fine, Jesus, you're no fun. It's...somewhere near...what the fuck is Sausalito?”  
  
“Oh, cool, I know that place!”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yeah! All right, we're gonna get there before the day's out. We can probably do it in the next like four hours actually as long as we don't-”  
  
“Dan, pull over, I gotta take a piss.”  
  
“...”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
The first thing Danny does is park just at the edge of the town, near the coast, and hop out of the car, leaving a fuzzy-headed Ross that just woke up from his second nap of the day to scramble out after getting tangled in the seatbelt only once. Dan hoists himself up on a nearby large rock and stands as tall as he can, even getting on his tiptoes. He takes in a deep breath.  
  
Yeah. Fuck yeah. He should probably be used to the ocean air by now, but God, he isn't, he really isn't.  
  
“Dude, you're tall enough on your own. Now you're just making me feel inadequate.”  
  
Dan grins down at Ross and leans over a bit, offering a hand. “C'mon, ass. Don't pull me down.”  
  
“No promises.” But Ross is nimble enough, gets his footing and climbs to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Danny. It takes a second or two, but he finally murmurs “Fuck, that's pretty.”  
  
“Right?”  
  
The houses of Sausalito are built gradually up a hill, all whites and blues and reds that stick out vibrantly against the trees surrounding them. Houseboats dot the ocean for the more bohemian types. Dan feels a vague itch to live in one for a few weeks, feeling the ground shift under his feet, letting the gentle rock of it all lull him to sleep.  
  
And then he remembers that anything even vaguely dizzying would probably kill him and he sighs, scratches that off the list, moves to affectionately ruffle Ross's hair. But Ross is so distracted by the view that he doesn't even complain. If anything, he leans into the touch.  
  
“What sort of shit do they have here?” Ross asks.  
  
“All kinds. It's an artist's town, that sort of thing, so-”  
  
“Can we go to a museum?”  
  
Danny grins down at him. “That's what you wanna do? Seriously?”  
  
Ross blinks a few times before waving his arms in the air. “Did you miss the tablet that I'm glued to every few days? C'mon! I'm going right now!”  
  
“Okay, _okay,_ holy fuck, just slow down a second, you're gonna fall off the goddamn rock and we left the first aid kit at home!”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Ross isn't kidding about his desire to camp out in a museum for a few hours. While Danny eventually wanders to the small bar tucked deep into the museum to bum the finest nonalcoholic drinks they have, Ross is transfixed by the exhibit until the sun's going down and Danny's stomach feels like it's about to eat itself. It's only with promises of amazing food that he gets Ross out of there, and even then with the guarantee that they'll go to another museum the next day.  
  
They drop $800 on a room for two nights at the Gables Inn, and Ross is snickering at the name of it – the Lilac – until they get inside and he sees the actual in-room jacuzzi tub.  
  
His pants are off three seconds later.  
  
They end up in the tub, of course, jets roaring, bubbles rolling everywhere, sitting across from each other, and when Ross pulls out a shower pouf that he bought as a joke Danny sticks out his tongue and grabs it, lathering it up with the complimentary eucalyptus body wash, and then there are even more bubbles and two bisexual men still trying to pretend they're way too manly for this nonsense.  
  
“This stuff is terrible.”  
  
“I agree.”  
  
“I'm probably going to end up eating you.”  
  
Danny blinks. “I mean, is that a bad thing, because-”  
  
“Because I'm Australian and that means I'm like a quarter Koala and there's eucalyptus everywhere and it's gonna be like when a vampire smells bloods, right, I'm just gonna lash out and-”  
  
“Goddammit, Ross.”  
  
Ross laughs, though he leans over with the pouf in hand and starts smearing the bubbles across Danny's chest. The movement gradually slows, gets softer, more tender, and after a long moment Danny's meeting Ross's big blue eyes, feeling a slow roll in his stomach.  
  
Ross licks his lips, considering, before he speaks softly. “Do you...I mean, should we fuck, or...?”  
  
The roll comes to a quick stop, and Danny blinks a few times, fighting to hold eye contact. “I mean, what...do _you_ wanna do?”  
  
The pouf lifts slightly off of his chest, and Ross bites his bottom lip, considers. “I-I mean, it just...it's been a long day, right, and we're both tired, and I just-”  
  
There's a vague sense of relief. “Yeah.”  
  
“We've got two weeks, you know?”  
  
“Yeah, totally! And, I mean...” Dan takes the pouf and laces his other hand with one of Ross's, starting to smear the bubbles over his arm. “...this is nice too, know what I mean?”  
  
“Exactly.” There's relief in his face, gratitude that he's being understood, that Dan's not gonna push or be pissy or passive-aggressive.  
  
Because he's right. They've got time. And Danny sort of wants to go back a few steps first too.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“Where to next?”  
  
“I have no idea, dude.”  
  
“Seriously, Ross?”  
  
“What, want me to get the map out again? I mean, we're leaving super late, I could end up hitting some city like ten hours from here, is that what you want?”  
  
“Just Google some shit, see if there's anything going around out here.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Anything?”  
  
“Dude, there's like some wine festival going down in Sonoma. There's apparently some really cool local bands playing or whatever?”  
  
“How far off is it from here?”  
  
“Not even an hour.”  
  
“We are so there.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
The tickets at the door are super expensive for this whole gala thing, and they're the only ones dressed in jeans and t-shirts, but Ross doesn't seem to give a shit, so Danny swallows down his vague embarrassment and decides that, okay, whatever, yeah, they'll do this shit.  
  
They're perusing the silent auction, Ross with his second glass of wine and Danny with his boring water, when Ross huffs. “Dude, why do people always sell the most boring shit here?”  
  
Dan blinks. “What do you mean? This stuff is awesome.”  
  
“But like, c'mon, gift certificates? Weird old antique junk? It's awful. Just give me something I can have some fun with.”  
  
“Ross, this stuff is worth a fortune, some of it-”  
  
“Like this!” He actually bounds a few steps toward something that catches his eye. It's some sort of antique, though Danny can't quite identify what it's there for, and Ross points at it emphatically, hand shaking. “See, this right here, _this_ is something I can shove up my ass.”  
  
“Wait, Ross, I-”  
  
“Bam.” He picks up a pen, scribbles down, and shoves it away in seconds.  
  
Danny wanders over, peers over his shoulder, and feels his eyes widen to comical proportions. “Did you just drop a grand on something you can use as a dildo?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Oh my God.”  
  
Ross is already wandering away to the band playing big band variations on Michael Jackson tunes, his steps bouncing a little in a failed attempt to be on beat.  
  
“Ross, seriously, we have three dildos in the suitcase already!” And Danny doesn't realize that he yelled that in a room full of posh, confused people until he feels at least a hundred pairs of eyes on him. He blinks. Ducks his head a little as he hurries to Ross's side.  
  
He's never taking Ross anywhere ever again.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“I can't believe you won that.”  
  
“Jealous?”  
  
“ _No._ ”  
  
“Hmph. Just for that, I'm not putting it anywhere _near_ your ass.”  
  
“Oh no, I'm so upset.”  
  
“Is that sarcasm?”  
  
“Fucking yes, Ross.”  
  
“Ohh...”  
  
“You're lucky you're cute.”  
  
“I know, thanks!”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
By the fifth day, Danny absolutely refuses to let Ross make any more decisions about where they go. Instead he points his car in the general direction of the nearby Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve.  
  
“Are we going camping?” Ross asks, perking up a little.  
  
“They don't let people camp in the reserve,” Danny says patiently, “but yeah, I heard there's a site like right next to the park where we can camp.”  
  
“We _do_ have tents and stuff, right?”  
  
Danny glances over while they're at a red light. “Ross, you're the one that packed everything for camping.”  
  
Ross stares back blankly.  
  
Danny's heart skips a beat. “Oh my God, don't tell me-”  
  
“Wait, yep, totally did!”  
  
“Goddammit, Ross, just give me a fucking heart attack.”  
  
“I mean, you _are_ old.”  
  
“And yet you're still dating me,” he says, reaching over to grab one of Ross's hands and pull it to his mouth for a kiss on the knuckle.  
  
Ross grins at him. “I _did_ need a sugar daddy.”  
  
“So you picked the gangly old Jewish guy with super big hair?” Dan asks, cocking a brow.  
  
“I mean, who else was I gonna pick? Some muscly supermodel? Do you have any idea how _boring_ they are?” Ross rolls his eyes with a scoff. “I mean, fuck, if somebody can't make me laugh, they're completely useless to me, you know that. And I can't think of a single person my whole life that makes me laugh like you do.”  
  
Danny can't help but crack a smile. “Yeah?”  
  
“Well, yeah! You _get_ me, Dan. You always have.”  
  
Danny grins wider, kissing his hand one more time before letting it rest gently on the console between them.  
  
The drive's pretty quiet from that point, but they're both still smiling.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“Are those mosquitoes?”  
  
“Probably,” Danny says, voice rather distracted as he keeps at his work. “There's some spray in the car.”  
  
“Oh, thank God, I don't need my delicate skin covered in bites.”  
  
Danny smirks slowly. “Wow, words I never thought I'd hear come out of your mouth.”  
  
“Shut the fuck up.” Ross's middle finger sticks out from over his side of the car, and Dan catches sight of it with a laugh before he lifts the paper he's holding, flicks his tongue along the bitter glue at the edge of it and seals it shut. “C'mon, hurry up, it's almost ready.”  
  
“If you can't wait five seconds for me to get de-mosquito'd...”  
  
“Never.” Danny twists the ends of the joint shut and pulls out his lighter. “Look at this, I get some good shit specifically for you and me and for this trip, and you're just over there taking your sweet ass time-”  
  
“I'm gonna throw this whole fucking can at you.”  
  
“Do it!” The can lands somewhere near the fire, and Danny can't help but sit up straight, make sure it doesn't roll in, before he laughs. “Jesus fuck, Ross, just send the explosive thing almost straight into the fire, why don't you?”  
  
“It's fine, probably. Hey, can you bring that back?”  
  
“Are you fucking serious?”  
  
Ross pokes his head over the car. “I didn't get a chance to use it! I had to show you who was boss!”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Danny shakes his head, scooping the can up and wandering toward the car. “You're ridiculous, you know that?”  
  
“And, for some reason, you love it,” Ross reminds him as he takes the can and starts spraying the foul-smelling stuff all over himself. He'll probably use the whole can in this one second.  
  
Danny hops up on the hood of his car and curls one long leg up to his chest as he tucks the joint between his lips and gets to lighting. “You ready for this shit?” he asks out the side of his mouth. “Been a while, hasn't it?”  
  
“Fuck yes.” Ross slams the door shut and scrambles up beside him on his hands and knees, so light that he barely makes a dent on the hood of the car. “So is this just-”  
  
“Just straight up weed. Basically. You know how it goes.” He hesitates, then tugs it out of his mouth and offers it to Ross. “You want the first go?”  
  
“What?” He blinks at him before he grins. “Yeah, hell yeah, sure.”  
  
“Cool.” It's a small thing, but it's something he's rarely done in the past, giving Ross the first drag, the majority of the time on the thing. He doesn't mean to be greedy, he really doesn't, but it's instinct from when he was growing up, when it was in such short supply, when he was a teenager and desperate for whatever high he could touch just so he could forget how shitty things were getting so fucking fast. But things are different now, he reminds himself. He's stable. He's safe. And he's right here with the man that he loves.  
  
Ross takes a long drag, fingers tucked around the joint, eyes never leaving Danny's. It's when he takes the second one, though, that he leans over, tangling his long fingers in Dan's hair, hovering their lips just an inch apart so he can gently blow the smoke into his wide open mouth.  
  
There's something so tactile about every time that Ross does this that Danny immediately feels goosebumps tickle over his skin, feels every hair on his body stand on end. A shiver runs over his entire body, makes his very muscles roll like a tidal wave, and he inhales sharply even after the smoke is gone, eyes pressing drowsily closed.  
  
When he finally opens them again a few seconds later he sees Ross studying his lips, biting his own bottom lip, eyes narrowed intensely. He feels that familiar fizzing in his gut, though it's a little stronger now, isn't it? Just...just a little stronger, just...  
  
Ross offers the joint back and Danny hesitates before it plucks it away and leans back against the car on his elbow. When Ross flops down beside him with no comment, stretching out long and lean, Danny matches him, takes a drag of his own.  
  
They're silent as they study the stars twinkling above them, and Dan swears there's at least a billion more here than there are back home.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
They end up staying longer than they should, probably. They don't have much time to explore, after all. But they spend a long day walking slowly through one of the easier hiking trails, hand in hand, legs brushing together every few steps, moving at such an easy pace that every hiker goes around them, even the random five-year-old with her parents.  
  
But it's nice. It's incredible, actually. Seven days in now and Danny realizes that he needed this trip more than he thought he did. It's not just to rediscover every little thing about his relationship with Ross. It's also because he can feel every cell in his body rewriting itself. He can feel every swelling bit of tension in his shoulders and back seeping away with each step that he takes.  
  
There's something milder about Ross too, maybe. Maybe it's just Danny starting to look at him with faintly rose-colored glasses again, but he could almost swear that he's softening a little, as if getting constant attention is enough to keep him calm, for once. There's barely been a moment over the past day or two that Dan hasn't been touching Ross in one way or another, and suddenly his voice isn't at a painful volume level, he's not dancing around for attention, and he's even starting to ask Dan things about himself and how he's feeling rather than steer the conversation always to himself.  
  
Danny'll be the first person to say that he thinks it's adorable when Ross is trying specifically to get his attention. He's like a little puppy that is pawing at his leg, making it clear that it's his smiles and his laughs that he wants more than anyone else's out there. But this? This is nice too.  
  
It's like Ross is finally content after two years, like Dan's doing things he wishes he could've been doing this whole time.  
  
He makes a mental note to do whatever it takes it keep it going.  
  
When the sun has set and the park is closed, they go back to their camping site. They plop down on a blanket that they've spread near their campfire and stay up until midnight or later – somewhere around eleven o'clock Danny loses count – telling each other bad puns and too-spooky stories and taking selfies with the small amount of juice that Ross's phone still has.  
  
“Dude, you have to delete that one.”  
  
“Fuck you, I look good!”  
  
“Yeah, and my entire face is gone!”  
  
“It's not my fault you didn't get your hair trimmed before we left,” Ross says with a grin, sitting up and analyzing the photo closer. “I mean, maybe that's why it looks so good, you know, because I'm the only one we can see-”  
  
“Oh, fuck you.”  
  
“-and my eyes are just like _popping,_ wow!”  
  
“Gimme the fucking phone.”  
  
“I'm gonna put this on Tumblr immediately.”  
  
And that's it, that's what makes Danny tackle the bastard with the loudest and most intimidating shout that he can manage, but he's not really expecting it when Ross laughs and rolls with it, uses the momentum to flip them over so he's on top of him, straddling his hips, grinning down at him like the cheeky little son of a bitch that he is.  
  
“Oh? You want this?” Ross teases him, holding the phone just over Dan's face, and when he thrashes out to grab it Ross immediately laughs again and shoves his hand away, holding the phone high over the both of them. “C'mon, Dan, you can do better than that, can't you?”  
  
So Danny throws his hips into it, bucks them, tries his hardest to sit up, but Ross plants a hand in the middle of his chest and rocks back so forcefully that he pins Dan's hips to the ground in a second. “Fuck you,” Danny breathes, flicking his eyes over Ross's face.  
  
“Is that an insult or an offer?” Ross asks, cocking his head to the side, showing that crooked grin, just a little too pleased with himself. “Because I admit, I'm intrigued.”  
  
He's distantly aware of Ross gently tossing his phone behind him, and when Dan goes for it again Ross doesn't hesitate to grab him by the wrists, to throw his weight forward and press every inch of their chests against each other. “Insult,” Danny offers quietly, though he rolls their hips together, watches the way that Ross's eyes hood a little in response.  
  
“Well, too bad,” he says just as softly, “since I'm the one on top, aren't I?”  
  
Ross touches their lips together, and it's so soft, so delicate, that Danny can barely feel them, only becomes aware of them when Ross gently parts their lips, then sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and lathes it with his tongue. Dan can't help but moan, feeding the sound to Ross, flexing his fingers and wrists before he remembers that they're pinned to the ground behind him.  
  
Ross's fingers are so long that he can contain both of Danny's small wrists in one hand, and he takes advantage of that, lets his other hand trail slowly down Dan's side, lighting fire under the thin t-shirt that he's wearing. He gives his lip a little nibble, then one last suck, and releases it, and Dan swears he can feel it swell from the attention. “Is this okay?” Ross asks.  
  
Dan's already a little lost. He has to blink a few times, breathe an almost soundless “What?”  
  
“This, all of this, is this okay right now?”  
  
He remembers their nights in that room back in Sausalito, their joint hesitance in the jacuzzi to let their fingers wander too far, and suddenly he's trying to read Ross's face, to find the right answer. He can't find it. Ross is expectantly watching him, though, and Dan realizes very viscerally all of the sudden how much he trusts him with his sheer honesty. “I want it. Fuck yeah, I want it. I want _you,_ Ross, want you so bad-”  
  
“Good, 'cuz me too.”  
  
Their lips meet with more fervor, devouring each other – no, that's Ross devouring him, pressing down on him so hard that his head is almost digging through the blanket and into the dirt beneath them. They're outside, Danny realizes, had almost forgotten it, and he's struck suddenly by the smell of the campfire, the chirps of crickets and hoots of owls, even the very slight discomfort of a small rock brushing against his hip somewhere under the blanket. It's all so real, so cataclysmic, his first vivid and electrifying taste of Ross in what must be months, and he can feel him all the way from his fingers to his toes.  
  
Ross breaks away, breathes a curse just against his lips, and Dan groans when he feels how hard his boyfriend is, how hard he _himself_ is, shit, did that just sneak up on him or something? Ross loops a finger through Dan's beltloop and rocks against him again, nice and slow. “Fuck, Danny-”  
  
“I can't remember...the last time I-I wanted you this bad,” he whispers back, like somehow breaking too much of the atmospheric song all around them will send them right back to where they were a week ago.  
  
“Same, dude, I just-”  
  
“Yeah...” Dan thrashes a little against Ross's hand, and it's instinctive, probably, the way Ross keeps them pinned down, but Danny makes a soft murmur. “Ross, I-”  
  
“What do you want?” Ross asks. His voice is thick and warm, tinged slightly at the edges with that accent he's never really been able to get completely rid of.  
  
And he appreciates how fucking sexy his voice sounds right now, he really does, but... “It's not the thing, Ross, not tonight, I-I just wanna touch you, okay?”  
  
“What do you say?”  
  
“Yellow.”  
  
He's immediately let go. “Okay.” And Ross doesn't fight it when Danny rolls them onto their sides, laces a leg around his waist, presses their cocks together through the thick denim they wear. “Shit-”  
  
“Better?”  
  
“Yeah, _fuck._ ” Ross almost whimpers when Dan starts running his hands all over his chest and back, his little nubby nails digging in just enough to keep him vibrantly in the moment every time he seems to be losing himself a little. And all through it he kisses him, lets the contact deepen until he's drowning in the taste of him over and over again.  
  
It's Ross that goes for their pants, of course, Ross that has no recollection of patience, and Dan doesn't fight it, lets him almost rip both of their belts and buttons and zippers off with how fiercely he's moving. It takes a little wriggling to get the jeans down under his hips, but Dan can't help the sigh of relief when he springs free from his boxers, spits an amused “Shut up” when Ross laughs at that sound. “Shut up or I'm not gonna fucking blow you.”  
  
“Oh, you feeling charitable?” Ross teases him. “How sweet.”  
  
“You getting sassy with me?”  
  
“I always am, aren't I?” His tone is downright treacly.  
  
Dan runs a hand through Ross's hair to tilt his head back and meet his eyes, trying his hardest to narrow his own and look stricter. “That's it, you've done it now. Now you're gonna blow _me_ instead.”  
  
“Or...”  
  
“...or?”  
  
Ross sits up, flops over in the other direction, graceless as always. His cock twitches just in front of Dan's mouth and making him snort at the sheer comical value of the thing moving as unpredictably as its owner does. And as Ross blows a warm cloud of air against the head of Danny's own dick he meets his eyes again with enough intensity to make an earthquake seem like a fucking joke. “Get the picture?”  
  
Oh God, he really does.  
  
When Ross tosses Dan's pants to him, he follows Ross's lead, balling them up and sliding them under his head so he's just high enough to reach him without craning his neck. They've done this before – they both like to get blown and they're both notoriously impatient sometimes when it comes to sex and pacing – but there's always been someone on top, always been someone more in control than the other. This? Laying stomach-to-stomach with him, side-by-side, their slight height difference unnoticeable, all power shared between them rather than fought for? They haven't even done anything and already Dan feels intoxicated. He runs his hands over Ross's bony hip, lets the sharpest part of the bone press into the middle of his palm, and it centers him a little more, brings him so vibrantly into the moment that for just a second everything falls away and all he can focus on is the warmth of his boyfriend's skin.  
  
But then Ross is running his tongue up his shaft, balls to head, and Danny is pulled back a little more to see the big picture again, a sharp breath getting sucked from his lips just before he leans in as well.  
  
Ross rolls his hips forward with a muffled groan the second that Danny wraps his mouth around him, just a gentle movement like the tide creeping in, but he presses back with his hand anyway to keep him in place so he can smirk at the sound of the groan turning into frustration. He catches one of Ross's eyes again, wiggles his eyebrows playfully, and that's all it takes for Ross to run the edges of his teeth over the head of Dan's cock in response. He can barely feel it but he catches the warning, breathes a soft chuckle.  
  
He focuses on the taste of Ross's skin, eyes hooding just a bit. He loves it, he really does, probably more than he should, is a total slut for it and always has been ever since he finally got over his tastes of panic around the man a few years before. He can remember it all clear as day. Can remember hearing about him constantly from Arin, meeting him, learning he was the one to rep NSP to Arin in the first place, flip-flopping between thinking he was hilarious and annoying as shit, feeling spikes of adrenaline as they bantered on camera, feeling spikes of arousal a few more months in during the same thing, feeling his own hand go to his cock of its own volition when he was high on exhaustion after fifteen straight hours of Grumping and laying in his bed and thinking about the smell of Ross's detergent clinging to him from where he'd been pressed against him when they'd shoved four of them on the couch to record.  
  
Can remember the day that he was stuck in that weird in-between state with the hilarity and annoyance when Ross kept getting close like he was going to kiss him in the middle of recording and how Dan had goaded him because yeah right he'd never do it except that he _had._  
  
Deciding to try things with Ross had been one of the hardest and scariest decisions he'd ever made in his life. And he doesn't regret it for a second.  
  
He feels his chest swell in sheer happiness, sheer _love,_ and mouths insistently at Ross in response.  
  
Ross works at him just as intently, tongue cradling his shaft, fingers rolling his balls together to set off little puffs of explosive stardust behind his closed eyes that make him moan. A breeze blows over them and makes goosebumps erupt across his skin, brings the smell of grass and redwood trees into his mind and keys everything up just a little higher.  
  
He digs his nails into the slight curve of Ross's ass to make him focus for a second, and then he begins to bob his head. It takes only a moment before Ross is following his lead, his tempo, and it's perfect, right on beat to a tee. They're moving in sync and Dan can feel Ross's cock twitch in his mouth, is almost one hundred percent sure his is doing the same.  
  
The sound of Ross moaning over the crackling of the fire is one of the most erotic things Danny's ever experienced.  
  
Ross has no patience, he _really_ doesn't, so Dan's not surprised when he finally breaks off of that steady tempo and starts taking more and more of him in as quickly as he can because that's what he wants, isn't it, to get Dan to come as hard and fast as he can. He takes pride in it, the bastard. Danny digs his nails in a little more but it just drives Ross on, makes him buck his hips just the once until Dan holds him in place again. He pulls off of Ross's cock, replaces his mouth with his pumping hand as he rests his forehead against his thigh and pants. “If you don't slow down, Ross, I'm gonna...”  
  
Ross just smirks, a trail of saliva dribbling down from his lips, and then he sucks him down.  
  
Ross's tight throat clamps all around Danny's cock like a vice, and that's _before_ he swallows, the son of a bitch with no gag reflex, and Danny cries out, closes his eyes as tightly as he can, holds out against the hurricane bubbling straight up his spine as long as he can.  
  
It's maybe eight seconds of tensed muscles and mental strength – a new record – before he says fuck it and lets go.  
  
Ross keeps swallowing around him like a champ, making Danny buck and spit out a fresh curse every time, making a new fire burst to life so that he's burning inside his intoxicated boiling skin, and he only gets a moment of fuzzy afterglow before Ross slowly pulls off of him and laughs. “God, you old men have absolutely no stamina.”  
  
Danny locks eyes with him and frowns. And then he rolls Ross onto his back, fits his hands against the thighs that he pushes until his knees are against his chest, and gives an indulgent lick straight up his asshole.  
  
“Fuck! Oh fucking shit, Dan-” Ross is immediately with the program, holding his own legs out of harm's way so Danny can occupy himself with spreading his cheeks, can focus on swirling his tongue and pressing the flat of it against the heated skin so that Ross devolves immediately into a babbling mess. “Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck...! Holy shit, don't...don't stop, _please,_ just-”  
  
Dan wraps a hand around Ross's still slick cock and starts pumping it, twisting and squeezing every time that he reaches the head. “No stamina, Ross?” he pauses to murmur. A full body flush is spreading across Ross's pale skin, every inch of it, bringing out tiny smatterings of freckles here and there, making him seem to sparkle in the firelight as the sweat starts breaking across him. “You think just old men like me don't have stamina?”  
  
“Please,” he whispers. He sounds so wrecked, so pathetic, and Danny sacrifices just a moment for a grin before he goes back to his task. “Fuck, Dan, _please..._ ”  
  
“You're so pretty when you beg,” Dan teases him, then takes another swipe, long and patient and made to make Ross shiver all over with sensation. “Always have been.”  
  
“So fucking good...”  
  
Dan hums against his skin, shifts to trail his tongue over one of Ross's balls.  
  
“ _So_ good, oh my _God-_ ”  
  
Even sucks one of them into his mouth, knowing that he's risking a buck that might put his eye out if he's not careful.  
  
“Shit!” And he shouts that word so loudly that the owls go quiet in the trees, that for a moment there's not a single sound outside of the fire, and Danny can't help but grin all the wider.  
  
“C'mon, Ross,” he whispers, “you know you wanna come for me, babe.”  
  
“Fuck, Danny, I'm...” His words are breathy and weak, and Dan immediately starts working his tongue again, picks up the pace of his wrist until he hears Ross resort to groaning, one sharp and punchy sound every time Danny's fingers squeeze around his base, and it's only a couple of seconds after before he full out shouts and comes all over his own stomach.  
  
Dan's careful. He knows how sensitive Ross is, eases the pace of his hand, gives one last lick before he lifts his head, watches Ross's gorgeous face slowly until he sees him furrow his brow, and only then does he let his cock go. He crawls up the blanket so he can rest his chin on Ross's chest and watch him closer as he catches his breath.  
  
When he finally opens his eyes and meets Dan's gaze he's grinning, quirking a brow. “What's the odds some park patrol guy's gonna show up in five minutes on a call about somebody getting gutted in the woods?”  
  
Danny laughs, presses a kiss to the sharp curve of his jaw. “One hundred percent.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It's not that night when Danny has the realization, necessarily. Nor is it the day when they drive all night because Ross gets way too hyped up on caffeine during his shift and lets Dan sleep through the night and then end up at a little hole-in-the-wall diner where Danny has to pry more coffee out of Ross's cold, shaking hands so that he'll sleep in the car. It's not when they're in the town of Montague and sitting on the hood of their car again, holding hands, watching dozens of colorful hot air balloons dot the sky while eating tacos that Ross swears aren't nearly as good as Del Taco's. It's not even when they end up in an expensive restaurant in a city they don't even know the name of in an attempt to spend every cent of their trip money that they have left over before they get home, drinking each other up across the table through four courses.  
  
It fucking happens in a gas station on the last day of their trip where they're getting snacks to make it the last few hundred miles.  
  
Danny is compulsively grabbing about four flavors of Skittles when he glances over his shoulder and stops dead in his tracks. Ross is standing in front of one of the fridges, very seriously considering two kinds of Monster. His forehead is wrinkled and his eyebrows are so low they're almost in the middle of his nose and he's pursing his lips in thought and he's absolutely the most gorgeous thing that Dan's ever seen in his life.  
  
It's a blissful sort of moment where his heart skips a beat and he drinks him in and thinks about the fact that, yeah, he's tapping that, and he wakes up to him every morning, and he's his best friend, and even when Danny's so upset he won't even talk he can somehow read his mind and figure out exactly how to make it better.  
  
He bites his bottom lip, considering for a long moment, before he walks over, wraps his arms around him from behind, rests his chin on top of his silky hair. “You know I love you, right?”  
  
“I'm not gonna jack you off in the bathroom no matter how much you butter me up,” Ross says softly, a smile curving his words in amusement. “You can wait until we get home and take a fucking shower.”  
  
Danny presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of his head and drops his voice to a murmur. “...you know I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, right?”  
  
Ross just about drops the cans, and Dan thinks that he can maybe hear his heart stop just before kicking into double time. And then he turns around and looks with wide eyes all over Danny's body before meeting his gaze. “Was that...uh, a proposal?”  
  
Dan thinks about it. He shrugs. “I mean, I guess not really. Not right now. Just...just a fact.” He presses one hand on the cold fridge door, leans down, bites his bottom lip as he glances down at the floor. “No matter what ends up happening, like...whether you want me to put a ring on it or not, or whether things fade and we don't wanna try again, or just...any of that, dude, no matter what, I want you in my life. I want you by my side. You know what I mean? Even if you're just my bruh.”  
  
“Don't you mean 'brah?'”  
  
“Like a support thing for if I ever get tits, or...?”  
  
Ross smiles, leans up on his tiptoes to press his lips again Dan's. “I mean, for what it's worth...ditto.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Ross doesn't leave his lap for a good four hours the first day they're back in the office. They're recording together, of course, sharing the same mic, Dan's chin tucked around Ross's arm where he can feel his muscles twitch with every button he presses.  
  
“I'm gonna kill the shit out of him.”  
  
Dan blinks. “What, the...the cute little-”  
  
“He's annoying.”  
  
“What?! He's your ally!”  
  
“I don't give a shit! Like oh my God do you even hear him he's so fucking loud and annoying and-”  
  
Dan laughs, gently headbutting his arm. “If I killed every fucking loud and annoying guy I was around, it'd be a much happier Grumps channel.”  
  
Ross scoffs. “You'd never kill me.”  
  
“Yeah? How do you know that?”  
  
“You _loooove_ me, you know that.”  
  
He glances up at him with a smirk. “Eww.”  
  
“Say it.”  
  
“I mean, no homo-”  
  
“No, full homo. All the homo. Gimme a kiss.”  
  
“You're fucking gross,” he says with a laugh.  
  
Ross turns his head with that crooked grin that Dan can never get enough of, starts making smooching noises. “Kiss kiss kiss kiss...c'mon, sweetie, baby, kiss-”  
  
“I'm gonna throw the mic at you.”  
  
“Kiiiiiiss...”  
  
“Eww oh my GOD.” But he laughs anyway. And he definitely leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips, something that the mic won't be able to differentiate from Ross's insistent sounds. “Go away.”  
  
“Never.”  
  
And just as he's considering ending the episode thirty seconds early and taking a long break in the janitor's closet, he hears a trio of people singing out “Gaaaaaay!” from across the room.  
  
Okay, so. Yeah. He's a big fucking gay baby right now.  
  
But he knows for a fact that he wouldn't change that for a second.


End file.
